


It's Just The Two Of Us Against The World, Right?

by Stagcore



Category: Skulduggery Pleasant - Derek Landy
Genre: Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Self-Harm, Whump, valkyrie is a mess
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-29
Updated: 2019-07-29
Packaged: 2020-07-25 17:49:40
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,313
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20029861
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Stagcore/pseuds/Stagcore
Summary: beta'd by @bubblemoon66 and vllgaxing over on tumblr





	It's Just The Two Of Us Against The World, Right?

Her living room is lit only by the hall light. The television is off and the house is scarily silent like it’s holding its breath. Waiting for Valkyrie to react. Waiting for her to fall apart like her life is built on pillars of sand. In some ways it is. Her phone lays untouched, save for when she dials Skulduggery's number, unable to bring herself to say anything. Somehow he’d understood that she needed him. He always did.

In the distance she can hear the Bentley’s engine coming up the gravel drive, her engine purring her familiar purr. A few moments later and there comes a knock at the door, making Xena bark where she lay, her back to the wall keeping guard over her house, and Valkyrie jumps slightly in her seat. Even though Valkyrie knows who it is, she still looks through the peephole in the door to make sure that it’s Skulduggery and not someone else who wishes her harm. Once Xena recognises who it is, she goes back to sleep in her corner of the room, satisfied that it’s only Skulduggery.

Letting the skeleton detective in without a word, Valkyrie goes back to sitting on the sofa, her knees pulled up to her chest as she stares blankly at the wall across from her. Along the wall are the bookshelves that house Gordon’s novels and papers. Things she couldn’t bring herself to throw out, even now, years after his death and then the death of the echo stone Gordon. A reminder, no matter how small, that she had had a normal life before all of this. A normal life that was made up of complaining about maths homework and Sunday lunch with the family. A time when she had listened to her uncle’s stories, believing that they were all fiction. Some part of her wishes she could go back to it, but she knows deep down that it is impossible for her to do so.

Skulduggery’s footfalls are quiet on the carpet as he walks over to his partner, the light flickering on his bare skull like a candle might flicker inside a carved pumpkin. The way the light wavers is oddly comforting, and even though she can’t see where he’s looking, she knows that he’s already seen the bloodied kitchen knife that sits on the table in front of her and the row of cuts along her arm that she hadn't bothered to cover up. He’d find out eventually. He always did.

Crouching in front of Valkyrie, he reaches out with a gloved hand and slowly and gently takes hold of Valkyrie’s jaw. Her lip is still bleeding, and she knows that the bruising on her face will quickly develop and darken. Looking away from his eye sockets, Valkyrie makes herself count the number of books that sit on the shelves in an attempt to calm down and focus on something other than the nauseous feeling in the pit of her stomach and the panic and flight of wanting to run. This is Skulduggery, her best friend. He won't hurt me. He won't hurt me. He won't hurt me, she repeated silently. Willing her body to believe it.

Counting the books again, this time trying to remember the titles until she could recite them in order, Skulduggery brushed her lip again, drying, crusted blood coming off onto his leather gloves and despite herself, Valkyrie lets out a little moan of pain and winces away from Skulduggery’s careful touch. She can tell what he’s thinking about. Murder… Gently letting out a quiet shushing sound. A rare attempt at soothing that is becoming more and more common. It seems clear that the Valkyrie Cain that went to America is not the same Valkyrie Cain that has come back. The Valkyrie Cain that she had been before she went to America would have beaten her attackers up without a second thought. This new, broken Valkyrie Cain ran. Saw the opportunity to fight back and ran away. The first opportunity she’d gotten, she’d run away as quickly as she could and hadn’t looked back.

Skulduggery tilts his head a little, and Valkyrie knows his black eye-less sockets are looking into her eyes. He’s very quiet. The type of quiet he always gets when he’s angry. She feels his gaze flicker briefly to a row of cuts on Valkyrie’s forearm, too neat and too straight to be accidental, and then back to her eyes again. With thinly veiled anger, he quietly asks;

“Who did this to you?”

The question hangs heavy in the room, and the air feels as if it’s going to rain. The candle that was gently burning undisturbed in the corner of the room dances and flares brighter. Yes, Skulduggery is angry; although, in that moment, Valkyrie thinks distantly that angry is not a strong enough word. Wrathful fits better.

“I don’t know,” she whispers. Her throat hurts and her face and arm throb. Considering this, Skulduggery nods and stands up slowly, not wanting to make any sudden movements in case it frightens Valkyrie any more in her current state. He’s been there, scared and alone and in pain. He knows what it’s like, but years of living comes with experience, and he’s known Valkyrie long enough to understand what she needs and why she needs it.

“I’m coming back with the first aid kit, okay? Try not to move too much,” he says gently, and walks off to find the green box full of bandages and antiseptic that she keeps under the sink.  
When Skulduggery comes back, Xena has made herself comfortable next to Valkyrie, her head resting in her lap and Valkyrie’s bruised, shaking fingers stroking their way through her fur. Valkyrie’s eyes are glassy as she keeps her gaze on the far end of the room.

Making sure not to approach her from outside her peripheral vision, Skulduggery crouches down slowly in front of her and opens the first aid box.  
“Val, talk to me,” he mutters, his head bent over her hand. Her knuckles are split and sludgy, with half-dried blood stuck to them. He takes a bit of cotton wool, dabbing some antiseptic onto it, and lightly strokes her knuckles, apologising as she winces.

“Do you want something for the pain?” he murmurs.

“No,” Valkyrie just rasps out, and Skulduggery can’t pretend he’s not disappointed.

“You don’t have to prove anything to me,” he says. There’s an edge of uncertainty in his voice like he’s approaching unknown territory.

“No,” she says again, more firmly but equally as quiet as the first time; although there’s something else now. Her voice is thick with emotion. Glancing at her face, Skulduggery registers that there are tears in her eyes and ah, now, he is in unknown territory. Although now he knows why she won’t take the pain relief. It’s for the same reason there’s a kitchen knife with blood on its blade on the coffee table, and four new cuts on her arm. She wants to feel it. She wants to feel the pain. She welcomes the distraction as much as she welcomes the idea of self-destruction.

Moving his concentration from her right hand, Skulduggery moves to her face, making sure to be extra careful around her eyes. Once her lip is cleaned, he moves on to her arm.  
“Valkyrie,” he says steadily, “Is this what I think it is?” not wanting to portray too much negative emotion in his voice despite already knowing that it is exactly what he thinks it is. Valkyrie only nods in reply, keeping her eyes away from Skulduggery, and he tilts his head to look at her.

“Relapses don’t erase how far you’ve come, but you didn’t have to do this.” 

Valkyrie nods again, and now a few tears roll down her cheek uninterrupted, and her breathing quickens. She feels sick. Luckily Skulduggery recognises the signs and passes her an empty wastepaper bin.  
“It’s okay, it’s okay. You’re alright,” he says soothingly. It’s not the first time she’s been in tears, with evidence of self-injury on her body, and it is far from the last. Between cases, he’s been reading up on how to approach the subject; what to say and what not to say, whilst she’s sobbing into her dog’s fur or a cushion. It breaks his heart.

Once she’s done vomiting the little that she had in her stomach to begin with, he puts the bin away to the side and makes a mental note to wash it out later.

“Valkyrie, I need you to unwrap your hand for me,” he says, and waits patiently for his words to get through to her, for her to gather the courage to uncurl her fingers.

“Good girl,” he murmurs as he gives her left hand the same treatment as her right. Her left hand isn’t as bruised, which makes it easier for him to clean and bandage it. Skulduggery can see that she’s battling not to take her hand away and wrap it back up in her dog’s scruff.

When he’s done, Skulduggery packs the first-aid box away and takes the knife off of the coffee table, quickly washing it before putting it back in the kitchen.  
“Do you want something to drink?” Skulduggery asked from the kitchen. 

Valkyrie nods, her hand still wrapped in her dog’s scruff. She gratefully accepts a glass of water with shaky hands as Skulduggery watches her. His head tilts as he thinks.

Breaking the silence first, as she puts her now empty glass on the coffee table, Valkyrie lays back against the sofa cushions and whispers;

"I should have fought back…"

"It's okay that you didn't," he says, equally as quiet as his partner. "Sometimes you can't."

“Still, I should have fought back.”

“Val--” Skulduggery begins, his voice growing softer, but before he can finish Valkyrie interrupts him.

“No, Skulduggery. If I were better I would have been able to defend myself. Six years ago, if someone would have tried to attack me, I would have been able to protect myself. God, even when I was thirteen I would have put up a better fight than I did today, and I’m twenty-fucking-three now!” Valkyrie exclaims, and her chest rises and falls as she heaves for breath.

“Is that why you hurt yourself?” Skulduggery asks, his voice tender and careful. “Because you feel like you have to be punished?”

Drawing her knees up and crossing her arms around them, Valkyrie shook her head.

"It doesn't matter why I hurt myself."

"Of course it does. If you're struggling I want to help."

"I don't think you can…" she said as she worried her lip and began to cry again.

Moving up the sofa, Skulduggery wrapped an arm around Valkyrie and rubbed her arm, careful not to disturb the bandages. His fingers ghosted over both old and new scars that littered her arm. He was one of the only people she would let see her like this. Hell, her parent's didn't even know she had most of those scars. It would hurt both of them too much. 

After some time, Valkyrie's eyes began to droop. She had stopped crying and the tears had dried on her face as she fought back sleep. Skulduggery's touches on her arm were soothing and comforting and exactly what she needed.

"You should go to bed," Skulduggery muttered. Shaking her head, Valkyrie forced her eyes open. Blinking blearily as her eyes adjusted to the hall light and semi-dark room around her.

"I'm not tired," Valkyrie protested weakly. Torn between giving in and sleeping and staying up and refusing to let herself have nightmares

"Yes, you are," he replied. "It's okay, I'll be here when you wake up."

"I don't want nightmares," she said, hating how she sounded like a child which was happening more and more often these days.

"Nobody wants nightmares, Valkyrie," Skulduggery said, a playful humour to his voice which turned serious after a second, "But they're necessary to life and for moving forward.I'll be here when you wake up"

"Just... Don't let me sleep too long, okay?" Valkyrie said as Skulduggery gently pulled the blanket from on top of the sofa down onto her.

"Of course." He said and she knew that he would be smiling softly if he was more flesh than bone.

"You can put the TV on if you want,"she said as she lay down on the sofa curled up.

When she awoke the first thing she noticed was that it was light out. The second thing she noticed was that she was alone. Groaning from her night on the sofa the headache that threatened to break the little bit of peace she had, she made herself get up and look for something to drink.

“How are you feeling?” Skulduggery said as he leaned against the kitchen counter making Valkyrie jump slightly.

"I'm fine," she replied groggily. Skulduggery passed her a cup of coffee as she sat down at the table. Her greasy hair was pulled up into a messy bun that allowed her fringe to hang in her face. She was getting good at hiding.

"Are we going to talk about last night?" Skulduggery asked as he moved to sit at the table opposite Valkyrie who shook her head and tapped a finger against her coffee cup.

"There's nothing to talk about," she takes a sip of the scolding drink. Liking the way it made her feel. Like the fire in her being hadn't gone out. Not completely.

Sighing, a habit that Skulduggery still hadn't gotten over completely, he shook his head and leaned across the table. His hands clasped.

"Val, you need help."

"I'm fine, Skulduggery." Her tone said 'drop it' but Skulduggery was never good at taking hints or orders when it did not suit him.

"No, Valkyrie you are not fine!" he said. Regretting the way he made her wince at his tone instantly. Instead, he softened his voice and watcher her across the table with empty eye-sockets.

"Valkyrie you stopped being fine when you started hurting yourself. You stopped being fine when I catch you staring at scissors or knives or shards of glass or when I panic if I don't hear from you for more than a few days because I don't know if you're dead!" said Skulduggery, struggling to keep his voice low.

"Well, I'm sorry I've become such a problem for you," Valkyrie hissed back.

"You know that wasn't what I meant," Skulduggery tried to reason.

"It doesn't matter what you meant. I get it, I'm a fucking burden to you. Well, news flash, I'm a fucking burden to me too!" she shouted, anger and adrenaline shooting through her veins.  
They never used to fight like this but now it's becoming more and more common. Hating the way her hands shook, she clenched them into fists. Loving the way that her nails dug into the flesh of her palms. She could feel it. The burning feeling that shot through her veins and tingled the ends of her fingers. Her new, explosive magic that always brought with it the feeling of euphoria. The feeling of power.

"Valkyrie-"

"I'm sorry," she said, sitting back down and slumping over in her seat so that her head rested in her arms. The electricity had gone from her body, leaving her with slightly frizzy hair and a bone-deep tiredness. She was getting too old for this. "I'm sorry, I don't mean those things. I know I'm not a burden. It's just that I'm so tired of feeling like I am..."

"Val," Skulduggery started again. Watching his partner as she half-sat, half-curled on her kitchen table. Her black hair covered her face but Skulduggery knew that her outburst had surprised her as much as himself and left her feeling drained. He understood misdirected anger more than anyone. "You've been through a lot and I think the accident that happened yesterday stirred some old feelings up. 

Except this time, you can't make yourself fight back. You're as scared of being defenceless as you are of being too dangerous to other people. You don't want to go too far and seriously hurt someone but you're not sure you can make yourself fight back without going all the way. It's a difficult line to tread." He spoke from experience and she could tell.

Valkyrie raised her head to look at Skulduggery and nodded. Not trusting herself to speak without her voice breaking. Running her fingers through her hair and plaiting the black, knotted strands, she listened as Skulduggery spoke. Thankful for the distraction that her hair provided.

"However," he continued. "You can't keep expecting yourself to get better whilst also continue to carry out self-destructive behaviour. That's not how recovery works."

Sighing, she let go of her hair and looked up at where Skulduggery's eyes would be if they were still there. 

"I know."

"Good. Make sure you remember but it's okay to ask for a reminder." And with that, she could hear the seriousness leave his voice. Valkyrie knew if he had a smile he would be smiling at her.

"I'm proud of you, Valkyrie. I always have been..."

"I know," she said, smiling a little. It felt nice to be reminded of the little things like how much somebody needed you in their life.

Skulduggery clapped his hands and looked around the kitchen, the dreary atmosphere gone from the kitchen.

"I think it's time for some self-care one-on-one," he said as he got up. Valkyrie knew what he meant. There were dishes and takeout boxes littering the kitchen sides and the other rooms weren't much better. Not to mention her head looked like a birds nest and she probably smelled a little bit.

Groaning as she got up, she followed Skulduggery out of the room. Her head felt like it had been filled with cotton wool balls and her body felt like it was a lead weight.

"You go and have a nice long shower and when you're out I'll help you tackle the mess." 

Doing as she was told, she shut the bathroom door behind her and got undressed. The tattoo that China had given her stood out against her pale skin like graphite on paper. Crossing the room to get out some other clothes, Valkyrie avoided looking in the mirror. Not wanting to confront the dark circles that ringed her eyes or the bruising from last night. She knew she looked as terrible as she felt, not to mention the fresh cuts that were concealed by the bandage Skulduggery had wrapped her arm in. Peeling the bandage off with a little wince, she averted her eyes in order not to look at the damage she had done. Biting her lip, Valkyrie mentally berated herself. She'd been so close to a month clean. Why did she have to go and ruin it?

Shaking her head as if she could shake the unwanted thoughts from her head, Valkyrie ignored the (more than) little part of her brain that wanted to punish herself for slipping up.The hot water soothed her tense muscles and she smiled as she felt the grime of the past few days wash away under hot water and lavender smelling soap, a gift from her mother that she hadn't been able to make herself use yet. She didn't deserve such niceties as lavender soap and unconditional love-

No, that's not right. I'm deserving of love and nice things. Valkyrie corrected herself. I'm deserving of love, I'm deserving of love, I'm deserving of love… Valkyrie repeated as she tipped her head back and rinsed the bubbles from her head.

When she was done and dressed, Valkyrie put her still damp hair in a bun and prepared herself for tackling the mess that her house had become. The shower had helped to lift some of the dread and guilt and depression from herself but it still lingered like blood in her mouth. When she got downstairs she was greeted by Skulduggery petting Xena and she smirked. Not too long ago, Skulduggery had declared that he would be civilised with her dog but they wouldn't have a complicated or intimate friendship which just added to her amusement.

"You can go home if you want," Skulduggery turned and tilted his head. "You know if you've got important sanctuary business to attend to. I'll be okay, I promise."

"Nonsense," Skulduggery said. "Why would I leave when you get all the channels I don't?" humour filling his voice. Turning her attention to the TV that was playing Jeremy Kyle to itself, Skulduggery barely paying attention to it.

"It's astounding how some people are," he muttered to himself. "Then again, lack of resources and stable upbringing can do that to people." He shook his head sadly and then turned his attention to Valkyrie.

"And I want to make sure you actually clean up and eat a few decent meals." Before she could open her mouth to argue, Skulduggery quickly said;

"And no, leftover Chinese take out and cigarettes does not class a meal"

"I didn't know you knew about the cigarettes," she muttered to the floor, weirdly ashamed.

"Well, I am a detective." He mused and then turned his attention back to Xena who had been nuzzling his hands for the past few minutes, sad that Skulduggery had stopped stroking her.

Grumbling half-arsed insults, Valkyrie moved the kitchen and filled the sink with hot water and fairy liquid and got to work on the dishes that sat grimly on the kitchen side. The methodical rhythm of putting a plate in the water, washing it with the sponge and stacking it on the drying rack quickly helped to work out the rest of the anxiety that she had been feeling. From time to time Skulduggery would tell her about what was happening in the newspaper, what football team had won the world cup and who had opened a new shop in the area. Thankfully keeping it light. No talk of how climate change was affecting the planet or how much plastic was in the oceans. Not that Valkyrie didn't care about that kind of stuff but she wasn't keen on keeping up with the newest depressing news on how the end was nigh

Once the last of the cutlery, cups and plates were done, Valkyrie wiped the sides down with disinfectant and opened some windows. It felt nice to declutter and move and shake the feeling of doom that had seemed to settle and suffocate her these past few days.

"I'm sorry I shouted at you," Valkyrie said. They had been quiet for some time, the conversation drifting naturally to silence. She was going through the mouldy food in her fridge. Skulduggery was still sat at the table, newspaper spread out before him. She was thankful for the fridge door that blocked her blushing cheeks. Apologising had never been her strong suit.

"It's okay. It would be quite hypocritical of me to be angry at you for misguided anger since my breakdown included me becoming Lord Vile..."

He hummed nonchalantly as he flipped the newspaper and read the back page.

"Yeah, but your breakdown was a bit more justified..."

"It doesn't really matter if it were more justified or not when you think about it. They include the same feelings and the same ability to affect your life and even the same way of changing you. The only thing that matters at the end of it is whether or not you allow it to warp you into some cruel, devoid thing or if you allow it to help you grow."

Valkyrie sighed and shut the fridge door so that she could see Skulduggery. She knew he was speaking from experience and even though it was becoming more and more common for him to open up about those sorts of things, she knew it wasn't all that easy as he would make it out to be. He, Valkyrie reasoned, deserved a proper conversation which did not involve her hiding behind the jam shelf of her fridge door.

"You're very wise," she grinned, putting mouldy jam jars on the counter next to her and bending over the table with a shopping list in hand.

"Of course I am, I'm me..."

"When was the last time you called your mum?" Skulduggery knew she had a tendency not to call her family. Not wanting the guilt that came with (briefly) killing her baby sister or the fact that she sacrificed her teenage years cultivating her magic and saving the world from evil when she should have been with her family. Valkyrie tensed up and though Skulduggery didn't want to upset her, he knew that she would continue to try and keep her distance from them for as long as she could.

Looking up from her piece of paper, she looked at Skulduggery and then back down to the paper, letting her fringe fall over her face.

"I can't remember" she whispered.

"I think you should call them, just to let them know that you're okay."

"Am I okay?"

Tilting his head and sighing, Skulduggery looked at the ground and then back to Valkyrie. "No, probably not."

"So what do I tell them? Yes, Mum, I'm fine I'm living the life I've always wanted and I'm really happy? I hate lying to them, Skulduggery," she whined, fully aware and a bit embarrassed that it came out exactly like a whine. She was officially a whiner

"You could tell the truth..." Skulduggery said and she thanked her lucky stars that he didn't pick up on her whine, or if he did he chose to ignore it.

"What?! No way!" Valkyrie said, exasperated. "Hi, Mum just letting you know I've not killed myself yet but there's always tomorrow. No I can't it would kill her! She'd want me to come home and I can't face them right now."

"Okay, point taken. Plan B; Text her saying that you're okay but you're feeling under the weather and if she asks if you need her to come and see you just tell her you're at my house? That way it's not really technically lying, is it?"

She thought about it for a minute and then went to get her phone from the living room. Sitting heavily down at the table, Valkyrie slid her phone across the surface to Skulduggery.

"Can you do it?" There was that whine again but the thought of facing her mother made anxiety swirl in the pit of her stomach.

He must have seen the pleading in her eyes or the fact that she was wringing her hands and bouncing her leg because Skulduggery pretended to be exasperated and dialled Melissa who picked up on the third ring. Putting the phone on speaker, Skulduggery slid the phone to the centre of the table so that Valkyrie could hear her.

"Hey, Steph! It's so good to hear from you!" Her mother sounded genuinely excited to hear from her daughter and it crushed Valkyrie.

"Actually, It's Skulduggery."

"Oh, is everything okay? Is Stephanie alright?" Valkyrie hated how her mother assumed the worst. What made it worse was that it was a perfectly reasonable fear. She could die on a case and Skulduggery would have to be the one to tell her parents that their daughter died. He'd have to sit in their kitchen or living room and explain that their child died

"Oh, yes, everything is fine. She just asked me to ring you to tell you that she's a bit under the weather right now but apart from that she's fine," Skulduggery, Valkyrie concluded, was an excellent actor 

when he wanted to be. "She'll ring you when she's done puking her guts up but she asked me to tell you that she's fine and that she loves you."

"Oh, okay. Well thank you, Skulduggery. Tell her I love her too," and with that the call ended

I love you so much She wanted to say but kept her mouth shut and wrapped her arms around herself.

"What's wrong?" Skulduggery asked, looking at the tears in her eyes.

"I just... When she heard that it was you on the phone she asked if I was okay. I heard the panic in her voice, her first thought was that something horrible had happened to me." This time her voice did crack. "One of these days you're going to have to tell them that I've died doing something stupid or heroic and I- I can't, I can't, Skulduggery," Valkyrie heaved.

"Hey, it's okay. You're still alive. You're fine," Skulduggery said as he pulled her into a hug. "You're just working yourself up," he said quietly into her hair.

"I know, I'm sorry." 

God, I'm such a mess, Valkyrie thought to herself bitterly.

"It's okay," Skulduggery soothed, rubbing a hand over her tense back.

"How about you take a break from cleaning for a bit?"

"Yeah, okay, that sounds good." She detached herself and rubbed at her eyes. Skulduggery's hand is a comforting weight on her shoulder.

"We could watch something?"

"Yeah, okay. I've been meaning to show you how to use Netflix anyways," Valkyrie grinned. Skulduggery, for all his self-appointed brilliance, could not use technology to save his life.  
Before she knew it, her eyes were drooping, the buzz of the TV in the background and the blanket wrapped around her not helping in the slightest to keep her awake. After some time, Skulduggery started humming to her an unfamiliar song.

She awoke in a panic. The type of panic that gripped her lungs with icy hands and made her want to run forever. Run across the woodland and the fields behind her house until she reaches the sea and then after that she'd swim for as long as she could before giving herself over to the waves.

"Skul?!" She gasped, her heart hammered so hard she could taste copper in her mouth.

"It's okay, I'm here. You're not alone," he said from his position on the armchair, giving Valkyrie room to get her bearings. One of the worst things you could do, in Skulduggery's experience, was to crowd a person when they were fighting down a panic attack.

Once Valkyrie had calmed down, he asked her if she wanted him to come over to her.

"Please."

"Do you want some tea?" Valkyrie shook her head. She was sat up and leaning against Skulduggery. It was more bony than comfortable but it felt safe and that was all that mattered. The sun was starting to go down, colouring the sky beautiful colours. On her better days, this was around the time that she would go out and walk Xena.

"Do you want to talk about it?" 

Another shake of her head.

"I want to die," Valkyrie whispered nonchalantly. Her eyes tracing over Skulduggery's aura, watching as it turned from red to purple just like the sky did. He was quiet for so long that Valkyrie didn't think he would respond which was fine, there wasn't much you could say in response to a statement like that, was there?

"I know," Skulduggery said softly. "Can you promise me that you'd talk to me before doing anything rash?"

"Yeah, okay. I think I can manage that." 

Valkyrie sighed and snuggled closer into Skulduggery who wasn't sure what to do with his arm. Scoffing, Valkyrie guided his arm and wrapped it around her shoulder, his glove-less fingers tracing patterns and mindless squiggles on her arm, chasing her nightmare away. Together they watched the sunset through the window, its colours washing over Valkyrie. Soothing pinks and blues mixing together  
forming darker purples that eventually bled into the night. Making way for the stars that shone continuously. Uninterrupted by the possibilities that the universe presented.

"I love you," Valkyrie whispered.

"I love you too."


End file.
